We’re in my bar, sorry no your bar? I’m between something. We’re at the ATM and I can’t check my balance, there’s an issue with my card, I’m withdrawing but all that is coming out is every tissue I’ve used for every reason and the overseer is collecting them in a huge ikea bag and I’m asking but I already know where are they going. And now I’m not between something but somewhere else entirely.

 

This is the problem with having a short horse, everything cascades around you and you’re galloping across fields of snow but the snow looks like cherries and they turn into water, in this landscape you are still consumed, at one with everything that is brought to you and the horse is feeling it too and you’re not sure whether to ask why the long face because it’s you, and the horse isn’t really there at all, you left it with envelopes in its mouth, posting RSVP letters and save the dates. 

 

You want everyone to join you. In the letter you tell everyone the rain is star-shaped and the pool has no regulations, you can dive if you want to, there’s an airplane down there and you can breathe because here you have gills I think.

 

There are flowers so many flowers, I’ve collected some and dried them out between the only two books I’ve never read and I tell you it’s because I’ve discredited the author and they’ve been disgraced but maybe that’s me and the two books are the ones I’ve written in the other world but in this world I wanted to press flowers so I can give them to you when you arrive and these won’t die because they’ve already died but I’ve covered them in a shroud of lace so they look so beautiful and I can make you a vase too or you can just put them on the soft shelf over there in the summer house, where the sun always reaches. 

 

I’ve brought you the tissues from the ATM in the in-between world because there’s pollen on the wind and I know how you get in the spring. It’s my fault, I’ve been running through the fields with my arms outstretched and my hands are full of bunches. I have fists full of flowers and the bees are fed. The trees are tall and I've always known this but I am saying tall as in we cannot reach them and I'm unable to see how beautiful they really are without you but it’s in this forest at the edge of everywhere, I can take you. 

 

There’s a burrow I can show you around, it’s at the foot of these trees and I want you to tell me how beautiful this whole world is because I’ve made it and you love everything that I do.

 

When you arrive please meet me at the fountain, I will appear as only a set of lips. After the fountain you will find me at the top of the staircase, in that small cupboard where the boiler sits. It looks like the landing, as in top of the staircase, the landing, the one from my childhood home that you’ve never seen because I never talk about it and now is not the time. But I am here in the small cupboard at the top of the stairs, lying down on the slatted pine shelf, caped in the fresh towels for your arrival.

 

The kettle is hot and whistling. I've filled it with the water from the fountain and the tea is in the canister somewhere in the place that looks almost like a kitchen. It’s marked and you will see it and it’s caffeine free because it’ll be past 7pm by the time you arrive. It’s ready for us when you collect me, pull me down from the shelf. We’ll sit together at the table as we always do. I’ve created this world for you which looks like the other one we live in together, but it’s softer and there is no overseer except maybe that’s me and I know everything. 

 

Please RSVP. We’ll be happy here, as we are happy there.